And I'm pretty sure it's not going to stop. I feel like my childhood is quickly moving into ancient history. I don't want to forget it. That's a mistake too many make. The reason for this odd prattle is Jeremy's wedding on October fourth. It's hard for me to believe that he's getting married. We're supposed to be little kids having fun, practically standing up in the car during that last mile of the drive to Myrtle Beach, and discussing comic books on Grampa's couch on Christmas Eve. That's how I'll always remember them. I have thousands of priceless memories collected over the past twenty years. I guess I'm just sad that it'll never be the same. I'm very happy for him, though. I'm glad he found someone that actually loves him. Like I've said before, that's a very hard thing to do. I hope they're together from now on. I really, really do.

I don't know why I'm so nostalgic. I always find myself missing the past. I wonder if that means I'm unhappy with the present. I don't think so, because I've always been this way. Yesterday I walked nearly ten miles, and a lot of the time I was thinking about Pensacola. I don't know if it qualifies as irony, but I think I miss that place more than I miss Samantha. I could write many, many pages about every little spot I miss; the colors, smells, the texture of whatever was under my feet, sounds...it seems like every little place you miss has its own special emotion attached to it. When I think of our little private place on the beach I feel one way, and when I think about walking the hot, vacant roads to get there I feel another way. I miss dodging traffic to get from Goofy Golf to Pizza Hut. I miss her room. I miss picking up pinecones in the back yard and playing with Ono. I really miss the flight down there. I miss Christmas in Pensacola. I even miss those barking dogs. I could tell you a thousand more things and have a page for every one. I wish I could forget all of it sometimes because it hurts so badly. Oh well, what can I do?